


Confession

by Karios



Series: Reconciliation [2]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Character of Faith, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Past Violence, Religious Discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:13:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22838365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karios/pseuds/Karios
Summary: The good news is that Lorena takes being dead very well. The bad news is that Lorena takes being dead too well."I refuse to ignore the path set for me."
Relationships: Garcia Flynn/Lorena Flynn, Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston
Series: Reconciliation [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641664
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Confession

**Author's Note:**

> Since I wrote Absolution in 2018, I have imagined and reimagined how the conversation between the Flynns might have transpired. I have finally committed to a version I'm proud of enough to share. 
> 
> Many thanks to ibble for the beta, and to Tana whose translation efforts allowed me to pepper the fic with pretty Spanish. 
> 
> If you don't care to read the first fic in the series, the only thing you need to know to make sense of this is that Lucy and Flynn were able to safely travel back to the year before Flynn's family was killed, and he's just told Lorena she's dead in his future.

“So,” Lorena said, as she settled herself on the bed, depressing the foot of the mattress. It creaked. Garcia folded his hands behind him. “I'm dead.” The measured calm cracked then, the words acted like a bullet that shattered the false peace they'd maintained through breakfast. And while he’d been expecting it, the sight of her perfect features twisted in anguish as her body wracked with sobs split him open.

He moved toward her, then stopped short. Would she want these hands to touch her if she knew all they had done? Lorena made the decision for him, clutched his clothing, and hauled him forward. And because he was selfish, he let her. He followed her momentum, as she fell backward, crawling up onto theIr bed, lost for one blissful second in tracing the familiar arc of old memories, until his eyes caught Lorena’s tear-filled ones and the fantasy snapped, like a man’s neck under his fingers. Even his analogies would repulse her, if only she knew. 

Oblivious to his thoughts, she arched her hips to meet his, the tears stemmed in favor of an expression more mischievous. She reached up to cradle the back of his neck, to pull the rest of his body flush with hers. He relented, and wrapped himself around her. She tried to kiss him but he turned his head at the last second, her lips connecting with his jaw. “Lorena, stop.”

She stopped. She froze under him immediately. One more reminder she was the better person. “What is it?”

“Bendíceme, mi vida, pues he pecado. Ha pasado mucho tiempo desde mi última confesión.”

“Spanish, this must be serious then.” Her face twisted in thought. “But I am not a priest. I cannot hear your confession.”

Garcia ignored her. “You wouldn't kiss the man who has done the things I've done. My arms that hold you close crushed the last breath from a man's lungs. My fingers now running through your hair ran red with the blood of dozens more. My hands, these same hands that cup your face, have levelled a gun at a child barely bigger than our own.”

Horror worked its way across her tear-streaked face. “Garcia, why tell me this?”

He sat up on his knees. “Because omission is its own kind of sin. I wasn't going to tell you any of it. But then I realized I didn't have to make this goodbye. Lorena, you can come with me. You and Iris.”

“Iris?” she repeats. “Oh.” Her eyes go wide. One hand flies to her mouth. “You were happy to see Iris. She—” A gasp cut her words short. 

Of course Lorena hadn't realized, hadn't known. Coward that he was, he hadn't yet said.

Garcia nodded. “Both of you die on the same night.”

“How?” she asked. “Where were you?”

“Don't,” he pleaded. “It doesn't matter now.”

“How can it not matter?” Her voice rose in pitch, all calm gone. 

"Because I can take you far away from here, somewhere they can't get to you. The past can be molded, just like the future. You don't have to die." He smiled, willing her to see the hope in it.

Instead, Lorena's gaze was sharp as a blade, the quiet anger in it chilled his blood. "At what cost, mi amor? The fresh horror in your eyes and all those people's lives. You ask me to put Iris and I above them? To discount the grief of all who loved them as less valid than yours?"

"They were not good people, Lorena. I only did what I had to do."

She tsked at him, and more silent tears ran down the sides of her face. "Tell me, do you think whoever will be responsible for sending Iris and I to the Kingdom of Heaven will say they were only doing what they had to do?"

"You don't understand. I was...I saved the world," he protested, brokenly. The future as written by Rittenhouse had been so bleak and without hope. Garcia was ashamed of all it had taken and he did grieve for everyone who had been swept up and discarded in the greed of one man's bid for legacy. "I am not heartless," he added more to himself than to her.

"No, you're not," she agreed. "I believe that you did what you thought was best. You have my forgiveness, Garcia. Because only a man with a heart can still feel it breaking."

"Then please, if you won't come with me, let me stay here. Give me a chance to prevent it."

"What becomes of you then?" she asked keenly. "This version of my Garcia, you who saved the world. What else might you destroy alongside him?"

He had no answer. It was impossible to know. It hadn't mattered, didn't matter to him much still, but he supposed that she was right. This was not his call to make anymore than it was Rittenhouse's. 

"Whatever your future holds, there is no place for us in it. I refuse to ignore the path set for me."

"No, no, no." He repeated the word until it faded to the barest of whispers, disbelief clawing at him. Of course this was her answer, he knew it would be. Spending this time with her was more than he could bear. How foolish he had been to think he could walk away.

His teeth chattered violently and it took him a moment to realize his entire body was trembling. None of it had meant anything, the killing and the betrayals and lies and the erosion of his soul. All worthless, meaningless. Glancing down at his own hands, he could still imagine the blood. So many sacrificial lambs, only to lose her again. "Don't," he forced out because he was not above begging. "Don't leave me to go on alone."

She dragged him down again, her mouth crushing against his, hot and urgent. A handful of seconds passed before he caved to her insistence, and his mouth moved against hers. She deepened the kiss, tugging at fistfulls of his hair. 

Lorena pulled back first, moving just far enough to lean her forehead against his. He soaked in the warmth of her skin and let her scent fill his nose.

She held him and it felt like hours and it felt like seconds, but either way it was not long enough. His arms ached by the time he let go and when he touched his cheeks, they were wet. He had no idea he could still cry.

"You're not alone," Lorena said, her voice gruff. "That woman, who stands watch over our daughter now. Who is she, this Lucy Preston?"

So he told her. The whole story, not every detail, not every mission, but the big bits. The journal and the future aboard the Titanic that he'd both dreaded and dreamed about in equal measure. About the fear of those early missions and their steadily-growing friendship. About Rittenhouse and his vision and the fighting and the winning which felt more like losing. "We saved the world together, and Lucy, she saved me," he concluded. 

"You love her," Lorena said, the words soft, neutral. She twisted off her engagement band and set it in his palm.

He tried to protest, to hand it back, but she closed his fingers around the band. "Many beautiful promises were made with this ring. Make another."

"What happens when I, your me, asks where it's gone?" 

"I'll tell you it's with a very deserving young woman." Lorena's smile said goodbye long before she leaned to press a final soft kiss to his lips. "Go, mi amor. Your future is waiting for you. Let her love you for all the days I could not. Júramelo." 

"Lo juro, I promise to try." He pocketed the ring, and stood up stiffly. He let himself out of the bedroom, knelt down to brush a kiss to Iris's forehead. He heard Lorena offer to wake her, but he shook his head fiercely. This would be hard enough.

He cried every step back to the Lifeboat, where his future waited. All that was left was to try to be worthy of his promise. Somehow.


End file.
